


A Perfect Spot For Your Grave

by badwips



Category: The Lobster, True Detective
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:56:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5021959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwips/pseuds/badwips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every forest is the same forest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Perfect Spot For Your Grave

**Author's Note:**

> On the third day, he took me to the river,  
> he showed me the roses and we kissed  
> and the last thing I heard was a muttered word  
> as he knelt above me with a rock in his fist.
> 
> \- Where The Wild Roses Grow, Nick Cave & Kylie Minogue

* * *

 

 

He died in the forest, that day. He was shot. Seven times? Twelve times?

 

He awoke.

 

A pale hand belonging to a woman, pushing glasses onto the bridge of his nose for him. 

He doesn’t need glasses.

Oh, 

he does.

He does.

 

‘Thank you.’ 

 

The woman, dark-haired, shakes her head and doesn’t help him up. She stands near his feet and watches him with fascination, as if privileged to be viewing something otherwise very private. He’s sore when he tries to stand, but that’s understandable— his back hurts, in places it perhaps shouldn’t; up near his shoulders, deep muscle pain. The woman squints, noticing the strained expression on his face. 

 

‘David, do you want me to attend to your back?’

 

‘Yes,’ the word doesn’t come easily, as much as his mind is ticking over so fast he can barely capture a single thought. The remainder of his flight instinct, telling him it’s not okay to stop, but for now it might be safe to pause. 

 

His name isn’t David.

 

Settling back between the tree roots, he can hear the sound of water, shifting.

 

The woman is still waiting, he realises, hardly able to meet her eyes.

‘Sorry.’

 

He’s leaning forward as she crouches, she reaches for his shirt pocket when he makes no move to do anything more. 

 

‘The wooziness will wear off after a while. You’re fortunate nobody else saw you fall, very fortunate that I did.’

 

He’s nodding. How they didn't see him when they gunned him down at point blank range, he’ll never know. Did he fall through a hole in the Earth?

 

Maybe time ran out for them. It continues for him.

 

The salve the woman took from him is working, or it might be psychosomatic. Her hands are slightly rough, there’s calluses on the tips of her fingers, but the feeling isn’t unpleasant. 

 

‘Thank you.’

 

‘You’ve thanked me enough. Too many times.’

 

He doesn’t apologise, the need for pleasantries like that is minimal, it’s not the time, he has a connection with this woman that allows words to go unspoken. A gesture suffices, and with a brief glance towards her, he sees her smiling. He should be in love with this woman, and nearly all of him is, but that part that seems to be pulling him backwards makes him think otherwise.

‘I must tell you that I had a child, with my wife.’

 

Her hands stop, she goes to speak, the wrinkle in her brow isn’t eased. ‘I don’t worry about that, because you said your separation was better for both of you and properly agreed on.’

 

‘It was, yes.’

 

‘It’s still surprising to hear that you had a child.’

 

Maybe in an effort to please her, to show himself in a different light, ‘I’d still have children, if you wanted children. More than one.’

 

He watches her face but she doesn’t react, or lift her gaze up. Keeping his eyes on her, he can see that she’s thinking things over; a smile blooms on her face like a small flower in a terrarium. It would be enough to take her hand, his present frame of mind stops him. She covers his back with his shirt and stands up.

 

‘That’s enough, I’d like to move, now.’

 

‘You’re right, it’s a bad idea to stay here.’

 

She leads the way, deeper into the unknowable forest without another look.

 

Keeping to the rules has never gotten him anywhere, neither has breaking them. Walking a thin line between them isn’t proving to be any easier. 

 

At least he knows he can stay near her, communicate and be understood. 

 


End file.
